Harry's Destiny
by samrinho
Summary: POST GOB- What if Dumbledore helped Harry to fulfil his Destiny right after the Dementor attack? Good Dumbledore with minor bashing from other characters.year five... read & review


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing here except my self and some minor characters that are not in J.'s books.

CHAPTER ONE

_"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

An enormous stag erupted from the tip of Harry's wand; its antlers caught the Dementor in the place where the heart should have been; it was thrown backwards, weightless as darkness, and as the stag charged, the Dementor swooped away, bat-like and defeated. Before he could celebrate his short victory he was suddenly grabbed by his throat and slammed into the wall by another Dementor causing his wand to fly out of his hand.

There was laughter inside his own head, shrill, high-pitched laughter … he could smell the Dementor's putrid, death-cold breath filing his own lungs, drowning him – _think ...something happy …_

But there was no happiness in him … the Dementor's dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak; then it raised both its rotting hands — and lowered its hood. Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, gray scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth… a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death rattle.

A paralyzing terror filled Harry so that he couldn't move or speak. His mind blanked out and White fog was blinding him. He had to fight… but for whom? His best friends had ignored him this whole summer and had not sent him even a single letter. Despite him sending them letters begging them to tell him what was going on in the wizarding world. The Daily prophet had written nothing concerning Voldemort and instead has started spewing and writing rubbish about him and Dumbledore. The Daily Prophet had gone as far as to slipping in snide comments about him_. __–__If some far-fetched story appears, they said something like, 'tale worthy of Harry Potter', and if anyone had a funny accident or anything it's, 'lets hope he hasn't got a scar on his forehead or we'll be asked to worship him next –'_

Dumbledore… the man he revered most had recently been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards (ICW) because he was getting old and losing his grip after he made a speech announcing Voldemorts return, as per the Daily Prophet report. They had even demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot - the Wizard High Court, and he wouldn't be surprised if he was sacked from his role as the Headmaster of Hogwarts 'School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, after all it was only a matter of time before they did it.

His plea to be removed from the Dursleys had so far been ignored by everyone. Even Sirius, his godfather had been abrupt in his letters and all they said was the same thing: _'Stay inside at all times Harry and do not do anything foolish and hasty… _it was quite galling to be told not to be rash by a man who had served twelve years in the wizard prison, Azkaban, escaped, attempted to commit the murder he had been convicted for in the first place, then gone on the run with a stolen Hippogriff. The same man that was to raise him but had run off elsewhere and got caught leaving him to be shipped off to the worst kind of muggles available. Snorting inwardly he couldn't help but feel angry at his two best friends and his godfather.

A pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly attached themselves around Harry's neck breaking him from his thoughts and onto matters at hand. Icy fingers closed on his throat – high pitched laughter was growing louder and louder, and a voice spoke inside his head: '_Bow to death, Harry … it might even be painless … I would not know … I have never died …_' The Dementor was forcing his face upward… He could feel its breath… It was going to get rid of him first… He could feel its putrid breath… His mother was screaming in his ears… She was going to be the last thing he ever heard —

While Harry was semi-conscious the Dementor had moved closer to suck Harry's soul from his body. Luckily the piece of Voldemorts soul also known as 'Horcrux' that had been imbedded in Harry after trying to kill him fourteen years ago was separate from Harry's soul; fortunately for Harry the Dementor sucked the Horcrux and not Harry's soul. Before it could continue any farther a flash of bright red flames appeared in the middle of the dark alley, Fawkes had come to the rescue of Harry Potter once again.

With the appearance of Fawkes, Dumbledore's Phoenix; the Dementor dropped Harry and turned its attention towards the phoenix. The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and Harry felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down his throat into his stomach, warming him, and strengthening him. With great effort Harry managed to fight the unconsciousness that was threatening to engulf him; stand up and begun looking for his wand in futile effort despite the light emitting from Fawkes otherwise it was pitch black, making it impossible for him to search for his wand.

Desperation kicked in, "Wand!" Harry muttered frantically, his hands flying over the ground like spiders. "Where's - wand -come on -lumos!" He said the spell automatically, desperate for light to help him in his search - and to his disbelieving relief, light flared from his left hand. He scrambled to his feet; with the help of the light he quickly spotted the wand a couple of feet away right in front of the Dementor.

His stomach turned over.

Stumbling backwards, Harry raised his left hand.

"Accio Wand!"

The wand came flying right on to his stretched right hand. His Mother and Fathers face burst into his mind. With a renewed vigor he brandished his wand.

_"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"  
><em>

An enormous silver stag erupted from the tip of Harry's wand; its antlers caught the Dementor in the place where the heart should have been; the silver antlers caught it; the thing was thrown up into the air and, like its fellow, it soared away and was absorbed into the darkness; the stag cantered to the end of the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist.

Moon, stars and streetlamps burst back into life. A warm breeze swept the alleyway. Trees rustled in neighboring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent filled the air again.

Harry stood quite still, all his senses vibrating, taking in the abrupt return to normality. After a moment, he became aware that his T-shirt was sticking to him; he was drenched in sweat. He could not believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging.

As the adrenaline begun to fade Harry's energy seemed to fade and suddenly found himself on the ground as unconsciousness threatened to overtake him.

A sudden slap on his face caused him to open his eyes blearily; slowly he stood up; shaking slightly as he struggled to remain standing. He saw Mrs. Figg, their batty old neighbor, panting. Her grizzled grey hair was escaping from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag was swinging from her wrist and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. Harry made to stow his wand hurriedly out of sight, but-

"Don't put it away idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

"He left!" said Mrs. Figg, wringing her hands. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons, that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr. Tibbies on the case! But we haven't got time to stand around! Hurry, now, we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!"

"But -" The revelation that his batty old cat-obsessed neighbor knew what Dementors were was almost as big a shock to Harry as meeting two of them down the alleyway. "You're - you're a witch?"

"I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off Dementors? He left you completely without cover when I'd warned him -"

"This Mundungus has been following me? Hang on - it was him! He Disapparated from the front of my house!"

"Yes, yes, yes, but luckily I'd stationed Mr. Tibbies under a car just in case, and Mr. Tibbies came and warned me, but by the time I got to your house you'd gone - and now - oh, what's

Dumbledore going to say?" she shrieked.

"You know Dumbledore?" said Harry, staring at her.

"Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore? But come on - I'll be no help if they come back, I've never so much as transfigured a teabag."

"Hurry up!" said Mrs. Figg hysterically.

"Keep your wand out," she told Harry, as they entered Wisteria Walk. "Never mind the Statute of Secrecy now, there's going to be hell to pay anyway, we might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg. Talk about the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery… this was exactly what Dumbledore was afraid of - What's that at the end of the street? Oh, it's just Mr. Prentice… don't put your wand away, boy, don't I keep telling you I'm no use?"

"Why didn't you tell me you're a Squib, Mrs. Figg? All those times I came round your house - why didn't you say anything?" asked Harry, panting with the effort to keep walking.

"Dumbledore's orders. I was to keep an eye on you but not say anything, you were too young. I'm sorry I gave you such a miserable time, Harry, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they'd thought you enjoyed it. It wasn't easy, you know… but oh my word," she said tragically, wringing her hands once more, "when Dumbledore hears about this - how could Mundungus have left, he was supposed to be on duty until midnight - where is he? How am I going to tell Dumbledore what's happened? I can't Apparate."

"I've got an owl, you can borrow her." Harry groaned.

"Harry, you don't understand! Dumbledore will need to act as quickly as possible, the Ministry have their own ways of detecting underage magic, they'll know already, you mark my words."

"But I was getting rid of Dementors, I had to use magic - they're going to be more worried about what Dementors were doing floating around Wisteria Walk, surely?"

"Oh, my dear, I wish it were so, but I'm afraid - MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

There was a loud crack and a strong smell of drink mingled with stale tobacco filled the air as a squat, unshaven man in a tattered overcoat materialized right in front of them. He had short, bandy legs, long straggly ginger hair and bloodshot, baggy eyes that gave him the doleful look of a basset hound. He was also clutching a silvery bundle that Harry recognized at once as an Invisibility Cloak.

"S'up, Figgy?" he said, staring from Mrs. Figg to Harry. "What 'appened to staying undercover?"

"I'll give you undercover!" cried Mrs. Figg. "Dementors, you useless skiving sneak thief!"

"Dementors?" repeated Mundungus, aghast. "Dementors, 'ere?"

"Yes, here, you worthless pile of bat droppings, here!" shrieked Mrs. Figg. "Dementors attacking the boy on your watch!"

"Blimey," said Mundungus weakly, looking from Mrs. Figg to Harry, and back again. "Blimey, I -"

"And you off buying stolen cauldrons! Didn't I tell you not to go? Didn't I!"

"I - well, I -" Mundungus looked deeply uncomfortable. "It — it was a very good business opportunity, see -"

Mrs. Figg raised the arm from which her string bag dangled and whacked Mundungus around the face and neck with it; judging by the clanking noise it made it was full of cat food.

"Ouch - gerroff - gerroff, you mad old bat! Someone's gotta tell Dumbledore!"

"Yes - they - have!" yelled Mrs. Figg, swinging the bag of cat food at every bit of Mundungus she could reach. "And - it - had - better - be - you - and - you - can - tell - him - why - you - weren't - there - to - help!"

"Keep your 'airnet on!" said Mundungus, his arms over his head, cowering. "I'm going, I'm going!"

And with another loud crack, he vanished.

"I hope Dumbledore murders him!" said Mrs. Figg furiously. "Now come on, Harry, what are you waiting for?"

"I'll take you to the door," said Mrs. Figg, as they turned into Privet Drive. "Just in case there are more of them around… oh my word, what a catastrophe… and you had to fight them off yourself… and Dumbledore said we were to keep you from doing magic at all costs… well, it's no good crying over spilt potion, I suppose… but the cat's among the pixies now."

"So," Harry panted, "Dumbledore's… been having… me followed?"

"Of course he has," said Mrs. Figg impatiently. "Did you expect him to let you wander around on your own after what happened in June? Good Lord, boy, they told me you were intelligent… right… get inside and stay there," she said, as they reached number four. "I expect someone will be in touch with you soon enough."

"What are you going to do?" asked Harry quickly.

"I'm going straight home," said Mrs. Figg, staring around the dark street and shuddering. "I'll need to wait for more instructions. Just stay in the house. Goodnight."

"Hang on, don't go yet! I want to know -"

But Mrs. Figg had already set off at a trot, carpet slippers flopping, string bag clanking.

"Wait!" Harry shouted after her. He had a million questions to ask anyone who was in contact with Dumbledore; but within seconds Mrs. Figg was swallowed by the darkness. Scowling, Harry dragged himself slowly up number four's garden path.

The hall light was on. Harry stuck his wand back inside the waistband of his jeans, rang the bell and watched Aunt Petunia's outline grow larger and larger, oddly distorted by the rippling glass in the front door.

"Is that you Diddy? About time too, I was getting quite - quite -" Her face morphed into a scowl as she noticed that it was not her Diddy but her dead sister's child, The Freak.

"Oh it's you get in quickly before the neighbors see you." She opened the door so that Harry could slip inside. "And don't you dirty my carpet with your filthy shoes."

Nodding slowly he trudged slowly upstairs and up to his room and plopped on to his bed. The last thing he heard before he passed out was Aunt Petunia greeting her dearest Diddy otherwise known as Big D by his friends.

Harry didn't know for how long he was passed out but he was awaken rudely by a screech owl swooped in through his bedroom window dropped the large parchment envelope it was carrying in its beak at Harry's face then zoomed outside again and off across the garden.

He could hear the Dursleys downstairs having dinner or maybe finishing their dinner. He quickly ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside, his heart pounding somewhere in the region of his Adam's apple.

_**Dear Mr. Potter,**_

_**We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area.**_

_**The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand.**_

_**As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks**_**' **_**Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the twelfth of August. **_

_**Hoping you are well, **_

_**Yours sincerely, **_

_**Mafalda Hopkirk **_

_**Improper Use of Magic Office  
><strong>__**  
>Ministry of Magic<strong>_

Harry read the letter through twice. Inside his head, all was icy and numb. One fact had penetrated his consciousness like a paralyzing dart. He was expelled from Hogwarts. It was all over. He was never going back.

Harry's temporarily stupefied brain seemed to reawaken. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand. There was only one thing for it. He would have to run - now. Where he was going to go, Harry didn't know, but he was certain of one thing: at Hogwarts or outside it, he needed his wand. In an almost dream like state, started piling his things in to his trunk; books-check, clothes-check, his family album-check, his invisibility cloak-check, and some of his other things were thrown carelessly in to the battered trunk.

He was briefly interrupted when another owl crashed in to his room. Errol, the Weasleys owl, looked like someone is finally going to explain what the hell is going on he mused. The owl stuck out its leg, to which a small roll of parchment was tied, shook its leathers, and took off the moment Harry had taken the letter. Hands shaking, Harry unfurled the second message, which was written very hastily and blotchily in black ink.

_**Harry —  
><strong>_

_**Dumbledore**_**'**_**s just arrived at the Ministry and he**_**'**_**s trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE**_**'**_**S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT **__**SURRENDER YOUR WAND AND DO NOT DO ANYTHING RASHLY.**_

**Arthur Weasley**

Dumbledore was trying to sort it all out… what did that mean? How much power did Dumbledore have to override the Ministry of Magic? Was there a chance that he might be allowed back to Hogwarts, then? A small shoot of hope burgeoned in Harry's chest, almost immediately strangled by panic - how was he supposed to refuse to surrender his wand without doing magic? He'd have to duel with the Ministry representatives, and if he did that, he'd be lucky to escape Azkaban, let alone expulsion.

His mind was racing… he could run for it and risk being captured by the Ministry, or stay put and wait for them to find him here. He was much more tempted by the former course, but he knew Mr. Weasley had his best interests at heart… and after all, Dumbledore had sorted out much worse than this before.

What to do? What to do? He mused perhaps he should run to The Burrow using the Knight Bus before the ministry officials came for his wand?

He was broken out of his cerebrations when by the arrival of the third owl of the evening. It zoomed through the still-open window like a feathery cannon-ball and landed with a clatter on his rickety study table. Harry tore a second official-looking envelope from the owls' beak and ripped it open as the owl swooped back out into the night

_**Dear Mr. Potter,**_

_**Further to our letter of approximately thirty -three minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on the twelfth of August, at which time an official decision will be taken.**_

_**Following discussions with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the **_

_**Ministry has agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further enquiries.  
><strong>_

_**With best wishes,  
><strong>_

_**Yours sincerely,  
><strong>_

_**Mafalda Hopkirk  
><strong>_

_**Improper Use of Magic Office  
><strong>_

_**Ministry of Magic**_

Harry read this letter through three times in quick succession. The miserable knot in his chest loosened slightly with the relief of Knowing he was not yet definitely expelled, though his fears were by no means banished. Everything seemed to hang on this hearing on the twelfth of August.

Suddenly a fourth owl bust in to his room and dropped a letter before it left as quickly as possible. Harry picked up the roll of parchment dropped by the owl. He was so convinced that this letter had to be from Dumbledore, explaining everything - the Dementors, Mrs. Figg, what the Ministry was up to, how he, Dumbledore, intended to sort everything out - that for the first time in his life he was disappointed to see Sirius's handwriting. Harry read Sirius's message.

_**Arthur's just told us what**_**'**_**s happened. Don**_**'**_**t leave the house again, whatever you do. DO NOTHING UNTIL YOU ARE NOTIFIED OTHERWISE!**_

Harry found this such an inadequate response to everything that had happened tonight that he turned the piece of parchment over, looking for the rest of the letter, but there was nothing else.

And now his temper was rising again. Wasn't anybody going to say 'well done' for fighting off two Dementors single-handed? Both Mr. Weasley and Sirius were acting as though he'd misbehaved, and were saving their tellings-off until they could ascertain how much damage had been done.

Growling slightly he crushed both Sirius's and Mr. Weasley's letter in his hand and he was rewarded when the letters bust in to flames and quickly turned in to ashes. Too shocked to even move after what he had done, he waited for another letter from the ministry concerning another usage of magic. But none came. Sighing loudly he was too tired right now to even think straight, aleast the ministry official won't be coming for his wand yet, the encounter with the Dementors was taking its toll on him not to mention that he was nearly kissed 'or so he thought'. With that in mind he clambered back on to his scrimpy looking bed and fell in to uneasy sleep, dreaming of his wand being snapped and expelled from school.

SENE BREAK

The next morning found Harry helping his Aunt in the kitchen, Vernon Dursley thundered his way in to the kitchen, greeted his horse-like-wife and completely ignoring Harry as if he didn't exist and started grumbling about rabbit food he was forced to eat because of his fat whelp like son. Grabbing the meager rabbit food on his plate he left the kitchen and made his way to his so called diminutive bedroom.

Harry was by no chance stupid or dimwitted, ever since Primary School, Harry had hidden his true nature and potential from the world after learning the hard way by being beaten to a bloody pulp when he outshined their precious Diddy Dudders. Books were his only solace from Dudley and his cronies when he was denied friends by him and his buddies.

His entrance in the magical world was ruined by the expectations the wizarding world had for him. To top it all he befriended Hermione Granger, a bookworm; she believed that no books or authority figures could ever be wrong. Another person he befriended was Ronald Weasley, the youngest son in the Weasley household. Not to mention the most insecure and jealous person Harry had the not-so-pleasure of meeting. So if Harry were to outperform both Hermione and Ronald at school he doubted that he would have been friends with them. For the sake of their friendship Harry had to once again pretend to be nothing more than average student that had a knack in _'Defense against the Dark Arts'_, a subject that Hermione tried so hard to beat himyet she failed. The same image which the wizarding world expected of the Gryffindor Golden Boy. After all who would suspect a dorky-looking boy hiding his true potential from the world?

Ever since the Dementor incident, Harry couldn't help but feel like a veil had been lifted from him; he could think more clearly than he ever used to; not to mention that his eyesight was getting slightly better hopefully it was only a matter of time before his eyesight got better. Not to mention that his magic felt even much stronger and than ever before and he could even feel it under his skin humming; giving him a warm comfortable feeling; just waiting to be called upon and put in to use.

Closing his bedroom door he made his way to his flimsy study table and composed a letter to Sirius.

_**Padfoot,**_

_**I'****ve just been attacked by Dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what****'****s going on and when I****'****m going to get out of here.**_

**_H.P_**

He did not even bother writing to Hermione and Ron, as it seemed to be a waste of ink and paper/parchment; after having gone for over four weeks with no single letter from them. Friends do not ignore their fellow friend cries; they have a lot of explaining to do if they were to continue being friends.

His owl, Hedwig, was off hunting; her cage stood empty on the desk. Harry paced the bedroom waiting for her to come back, his head pounding from too much thinking, his brain too busy for sleep even though his eyes stung and itched with tiredness. Up and down he paced, consumed with anger and frustration, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists, casting angry looks out at the empty, sky every time he passed the window. Dementors sent to get him, Mrs. Figg and Mundungus Fletcher tailing him in secret, and then suspension from Hogwarts and a hearing at the Ministry of Magic - and still no one was telling him what was going on.

Someone had better tell him what the hell was going on or there was going to be hell to pay for when he got out of here.

Why was he still trapped here without information? Why was everyone treating him like some naughty kid? Don't do any more magic, stay in the house…

He kicked his school trunk as he passed it, but far from relieving his anger he felt worse, as he now had a sharp pain in his toe to deal with in addition to the pain in the rest of his body.

Just as he limped past the window, Hedwig soared through it with a soft rustle of wings like a small ghost.

"About time!" Harry said, as she landed lightly on top of her cage. "I've got work for you, after you are done eating your meal! I need you to deliver a letter to Sirius peck him till he writes a decent-length answer if you've got to. Understand? "

Hedwig gave a muffled hooting noise, her beak still full of frog.

Moving towards his window, Harry glanced down and he was surprised when he saw an aura in the shape of man/woman probably under an invisibility cloak. Concentrating harder, he blinked his eyes and the aura begun to fade, and a stately-looking witch in an emerald green shawl appeared in its place. Blinking his eyes twice in shock the stately-looking witch disappeared from view. A thoughtful look appeared on his face as he recalled back in his second year, when Professor Dumbledore seemed to be able to see right through the cloak.

Hmm… perhaps he was developing the same ability as Professor Dumbledore himself; well I'll just have to ask him the next time I see him. Harry pondered.

It wasn't until later when Hedwig took off with his letter to Sirius, hopefully he couldn't ignore his letter this time especially after the Dementor attack. With those thoughts Harry sat down on his desk andcontinued to finish his Potion's essay.

_**Miles Away…**_

Sirius paced in his room as he thought on what was happening to his godson, Bloody Mundungus, I'll strangle him with my bare paws… err… hands when I see him, Sirius grumbled. It should never had happened; Dumbledore knew that this was going to happen and now because of the useless skiving thief, Harry was in trouble for using magic to protect himself.

Growling slightly Sirius stormed away from his bedroom and made his way to the kitchen for a much needed drink. Since the Weasley clan had moved in here at Dumbledore's request, Molly seemed to have made it her mission to get this house cleaned up, not that he disapproved it either he certainly was glad that she was making it her mission to clean this old dump. But with the recent addition of that Granger girl, Molly had tried to access the Black family Library to rid off the dark arts books; so that Granger could be permitted to peruse through the library once it was Dark arts free; but she had failed whenever she removed any book from its position so that it could be destroyed the book would make its way back to the shelf. This frustrated the woman and the girl to no end; one was frustrated at her failure to remove the harmful books; the other was frustrated at being denied access to library until it was cleaned. To say Molly was furious when he refused to help clear the library was an understatement, she had gone out of her way to try to make Sirius as miserable as she could in his own damn house. It wasn't until recently when he was alone, did he make his way to the library and sealed it off from any other person that was not a Black.

Harry needed someone right now to be there for him and explain what the hell was going on and how they were going to deal with this. Summoning a bottle of fire whiskey, he gulped it down and the familiar warm feeling engulfed him as the fire whiskey did its job. Grudgingly Sirius admitted to himself that Dumbledore was better off in dealing with this than he was. Lately, since the students went home for their summer holidays, the old man was always dealing with something that involved going to Gringotts every now and then. To top it off he refused to disclose what he was doing to anybody else, even the Order in particular saying that it was imperative that no one knew what he was doing as it would jeopardize the safety of a certain someone.

A sudden screech cut Sirius from his musings as Harry's beautiful snowy owl made its way in to the kitchen and headed right for him. Taking the letter from the Owls beak, he opened it and his heart went out to Harry as he read the letter.

_**Padfoot,**_

_**I**__**'ve been attacked by Dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.**_

_**H.P**_

Molly Weasley entered the kitchen and found Sirius, the Azkaban escapee hunched on the kitchen table; by the looks of things he was writing a letter. A baleful hoot from drew her attention to the beautiful snowy owl perched on the kitchen topmost cupboard.

"Hedwig! Harry has sent a letter? Where is it Sirius? Molly asked as she looked around for the letter. Spotting it besides Sirius, she made a grab for it but Sirius stopped her.

"Not so fast Molly, this letter is mine; Harry wrote to me and not you. So don't get your knickers in a twist." Sirius said as he calmly thwarted her venomous glare thrown at him.

"Well if that is so then Dumbledore needs to know about this; so you need to give that letter to me right away." Molly explained smugly.

"Dumbledore's no boss of mine and neither has he issued such a ridiculous instruction. So cut the crap, we both know that you don't like my association with Harry. It is Harrys' decision that he chose to write to me and not you or any other person. If you have any problem with Harry writing to me, why don't you do something about it instead of yelling like a banshee." Sirius said calmly.

"Now if you'll excuse me I have a letter to write." Sirius dismissed Molly.

Molly huffed angrily before stomping away from the kitchen.

After finishing composing his letter, Sirius beckoned Harry's owl and tied the letter to its outstretched leg before and watched it take off.

It wasn't until nighttime did Harry receive Sirius short but explanatory letter. Which somewhat explained why Sirius understood his frustrations.

_**Harry,**_

_**I know this must be frustrating for you… being stuck at your uncle's and aunt's house with no communication… same thing has happened to me being stuck at my own house with nothing else to do… so trust me I know how you feel…**_

_**Dumbledore has managed to convince the ministry not to snap your wand and hopefully he will come up with a strong defense for your case later this month… when you are leaving I have no idea, personally I think you are going to be out of there real soon… just hang in there for me pup…**_

_**Snuffles.**_

Sirius, at least, seemed to understand how Harry was feeling. This letter seemed to say more than all the letters he had received for the last four weeks, which wasn't much mind you.

Harry spent the day in his bedroom, leaving it only to go to the bathroom. Three times that day Aunt Petunia shoved food into his room through the cat flap Uncle Vernon had installed three summers ago.

So it went on for three whole days. Harry was alternately filled with restless energy that made him unable to settle to anything, during which time he paced his bedroom, furious at the whole lot of them for leaving him to stew in this mess; and with a lethargy so complete that he could lie on his bed for an hour at a time, staring dazedly into space, aching with dread at the thought of the Ministry hearing.

What if they ruled against him? What if he was expelled and his wand was snapped in half? What would he do, where would he go? He could not return to living full-time with the Dursleys, not now he knew the other world, the one to which he really belonged. Might he be able to move into Sirius's house, as Sirius had suggested a year ago, before he had been forced to flee from the Ministry? Would Harry be allowed to live there alone, given that he was still underage? Or would the matter of where he went next be decided for him? Had his breach of the International Statute of Secrecy been severe enough to land him in a cell in Azkaban? Whenever this thought occurred, Harry invariably slid off his bed and began pacing again.

It was on the fourth day that Harry felt like he would go mad and he couldn't take it any more. He was practically restricted to his bedroom, he could no longer leave the house in fear of more Dementor attack not only that he doubted the guards assigned to guard him would allow him to leave the house.

Acting on impulse, Harry grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote short letter for Professor Dumbledore.

_**Professor Dumbledore,**_

_**I NEED to know what the HELL is going on about my case and when I am going to LEAVE THIS HELL HOLE! THAT YOU PUT ME EVERY SUMMER HOLIDAYS. If you DO NOT REPLY TO THIS, you had better be prepared to put a search team together to find me because I will be GONE FROM this shit hole!**_

_**YOUR PUPPET,**_

_**H.P**_

Feeling satisfied with his letter, he sighed as he spotted Hedwig's cage empty since last night. Groaning inwardly he called out loudly "Fawkes!" not really sure if the phoenix would even hear him.

A bright flash of flame appeared and behold the phoenix, it appeared to have heard his call after all. A soft trill left its beak that soothed Harry and he felt his anger abate. "'Lo, Fawkes," said Harry quietly. He stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet-and gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at him. There was something comforting about his warm weight. "Can you please deliver this letter to Dumbledore please?" He asked the majestic creature in front of him. Another quavering note left its beak, before grabbing the letter with its talons and disappeared in a flash.

Harry Potter was snoring loudly. He had been sitting in a chair beside his bedroom window for the best part of four hours, staring out at the darkening street, and had finally fallen asleep with one side of his face pressed against the cold windowpane, his glasses askew and his mouth wide open. The misty fog his breath had left on the window sparkled in the orange glare of the streetlamp outside, and the artificial light drained his face of all color, so that he looked ghostly beneath his shock of untidy black hair.

The room was strewn with various possessions and a good smattering of rubbish. Owl feathers, apple cores, and sweet wrappers littered the floor, a number of spellbooks lay higgledy-piggledy among the tangled robes on his bed, and a mess of newspapers sat in a puddle of light on his desk.

A yell from his aunt downstairs broke Harry from his sleep. Stretching himself he left his room and made his way downstairs to help his aunt prepare dinner. Before dinner could begin Dudley lumbered his way in to the kitchen and sat himself on the table. Shooting Harry an evil glint he tried to trip him but ended up kicking his father in the groin. Harry had to hold himself on the counter as Petunia rushed to help her husband who was currently kissing the floor. Five minutes later Vernon was back in his seat and Dudley was sent to bed with no food that night, still red-faced veins protruding all over his face threatening to explode at any moment. The doorbell rung and his Uncle Vernon shouted, "Who the blazes is calling at this lime of night?" before turning back to Harry and ordering him to go check who the hell it was.

Dragging himself Harry made his way to the front door, wrenching it open he was met with last thing he ever expected to see while he was at the Dursleys… Professor Dumbledore.

There in the doorway stood a He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple traveling cloak and a pointed hat. Drive that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

"Hello Harry." Professor Dumbledore greeted his favorite pupil as his eyes twinkled merrily.


End file.
